In Truths that She Learned
by Donner Dumott Schunard
Summary: Came in third place for speedrent. Moments in Collins and Angel's relationship that mattered, using the second solo in Seasons of Love


Well, this morning, I was listening to "Seasons of Love", like every other morning. But today I decided to actually study the lyrics as I sang them, mainly after I saw scotsinkilts' avatar with Collins n' Angel and at the bottom of it said "or the way that she died." So when Collins' solo came on, I listened really hard, even listened to it again for good measure. So here's my take on Collins' solo.

**In Truths That She Learned**

**By Donna**

_**In truths that she learned**_

"Collins," Angel said, very deliberate and forceful. Collins looked at her, confused. "What's wrong?" He feared whenever she spoke like that. That "I'm not kidding" voice. That "I'm serious and I need to get this out... get ready" voice.

"...nothing's wrong!" Angel said, "I just... I want to ask you something."

Collins held her tightly, placing his arm protectively around her stomach. "Ask away."

"Do your parents... well... know?"

"About what, baby?"

"About me."

Collins bit his lip. "Well... no. Angel, I haven't talked to my parents in years."

"...Oh... I'm so sorry!" Angel exclaimed, looking up at him, her eyes wide. "I didn't know!"

"It's okay," Collins said. He hugged her tightly and said, "You're my family now. I don't need them."

Angel held onto his dark arm. "I guess... I always wanted to... I dunno..."

"What about your parents?"

"My dad... I don't know. My mom died. But I have a sister! And my grandmother."

"I want to meet your Granny!"

Angel laughed. "Maybe someday... I called her today and told her about you. So I just wanted to know if your family knew..."

"I feel so happy. How'd she take it?"

"She thinks that maybe if I'm seeing a teacher I can improve my vocabulary."

Collins covered his face. "Oh jeez... you're beyond repair, my Angel."

Angel pouted. "Try me."

"What is Synesthesia," Collins pulled out of thin air.

Angel stared blankly. "Isn't that, like, something that happens after you take some ecstacy?"

Collins sighed. "Sure. You see sounds."

"That's really weird. I mean, I only took that stuff, like, once, and I just got thirsty. It wasn't worth it."

Collins sighed. "It's good to see you're open with your drug use."

"Pothead," was the only comeback Angel could muster, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

_**Or time that he cried**_

Nothing broke Collins' heart more than when he actually took a look at Angel's blood test. He looked at the numbers and the doctor's notes and he realized she was in terrible shape. There was a doctor's note for more medication and a pamphlet attached to test. Collins shook his head. "No," he said, "No way. She's fine..."

"Who's fine?" Angel asked, walking in. She looked at him, confused. "What are you talking about?" She looked to his hand. "Oh. That. Don't worry. The doctors are stupid. I'm fine."

Collins closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Angel... don't lie..."

"I'm not," Angel said, "Those are just numbers, baby. They don't mean anything."

Collins put on a fake smile. "You're right," he said, shaking his head. "You're right... you're right..." He continued to repeat, each time his voice cracking a little. He walked slowly to the bathroom and closed the door.

It was one of the few times in recent memory Collins remembered crying to himself. It was one of those moments when reality finally caught up with his heart and he had to remember that nothing lasts forever.

Then he heard a rather nasty, "Suck it up, Collins!"

Collins wiped at his tears and decided not to fight back. She had every right to be angry at him. She should be the one crying on the ugly old tiles of their apartment. It was her body.

The door shook. Angel was hitting the door with her heel. "Open it!" she yelled, "Collins!"

Collins crawled to the door and opened it. "Hey."

"Are you crying over a blood test?" she asked, kneeling down. She crawled into his lap, wiping away the tears. "Come on, baby. Don't do that."

Collins nodded. "I know... I know... I just..."

Angel sighed. "Hm. I know what will make you smile... _fast food_!" she cheered. She got him up and pulled him out of the bathroom.

And that was the thing with Angel. Even though Collins caught himself crying more and more as time went by, it was never long. She always knew how to make him smile again.

_**In bridges he burned**_

"Watch this," Collins told Angel, throwing a pile of old newspaper into the trashcan.

"What're you doing?" Angel asked.

"Starting a fire," Collins said. He threw some more garbage in it and lit a match. It quickly lit up the contents in the garbage can. "Okay. Now here's the real fun," Collins announced. He pulled out a picture of an older black man. "See this guy? This is my father."

"Whoa," Angel said, "Mister Collins."

"Yep. Would you like to do the honors?" he asked.

"What are we doing?" Angel asked.

"Burning his memory. They guy made my life a living hell until I moved out. Gave me so much shit. So... I want my lovely lady to throw the only picture I have of him in the fire."

Angel giggled. "This is fun! Okay! Goodbye, asshole!"

She threw the picture in the fire. She held hands and watched as the picture contorted and turned black. The fire crackled and they laughed loudly.

"I wish I had some pictures!" Angel exclaimed. She heard a loud noise and she looked around. There stood a woman and a small child. "...can we stand here, too?" she asked.

The couple nodded. "Sure! Go ahead!"

The woman walked to the fire and helped her child warm up. "Thank you!" the woman exclaimed, "It's so cold..."

"Can we help you in any way?" Collins asked.

"No! No! This is good enough!" the woman said.

After a few minutes, Angel handed her some money she had concealed in her purse. The woman took it graciously. After an hour of swapping stories, they walked away. A night of revenge ended up a night of good will and citizenship.

_**Or the way that she died**_

Collins laughed as he held the phone to his ear. "Are you serious?" Collins asked, "He did that!"

"Oh yes!" the woman exclaimed, "He was a fiery one! He beat that boy good!"

"All because he made fun of his tiara?"

"Yep. His mother hounded our house for weeks after that..."

Collins grinned. Mrs. Schunard, Angel's grandmother, was a great lady. She definitely was a key influence in Angel's life. She was sharp as a tact and had a rough Puerto Rican accent. She told Collins tons of stories about a young boy whom soon became the diva of the drums that caught Collins' in her whacked-out world. It was therapy for the both of them. They needed to vent.

"...so Collins... is... he okay?" she asked.

"How... but..." Collins started.

"You know what I mean," she said, "Did he die peacefully?"

Collins smiled in spite of himself. "Yes. In my arms."

"Good boy. I have no regrets that I had to stay in this stupid senior citizen place, now. Now, dear, let me tell you something, the food here, it's shit..."

_**It's time now,**_

_**To sing out,**_

_**Though the story never ends,**_

_**Let's celebrate,**_

_**Remember a year in the life of friends**_

**END**


End file.
